


Mortality

by cryysis



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Ghost Stories, ghost POV, mentioned PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 10:18:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19423966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryysis/pseuds/cryysis
Summary: I know my Guardian.





	Mortality

I know my Guardian inside and out. I know them piece by piece, line by line, cell by cell. I pulled them from the icy tundra and filled them with the Travelers Light. They are the savior of worlds, the killer of kings, the destroyer of gods. They brought back the Light when the Cabal came to take it away, defeated Xol when he tried to rip open Rasputin. They took vengeance on the Cayde's killers, and helped save the Dreaming City. 

I know my Guardian. Which is why I know that even after doing all of these things… my Guardian is small. They are not the stuff of legends, they are not the things stars are made of. My Guardian has done the impossible, has brought low the mightiest of enemies, saved the Traveler and its Light with their power alone. But they are not mighty.

They are a Guardian who has never forgotten their humanity.

My Guardian is fearful on their own, prefers to keep their distance. They would rather shoot down their foes from the tallest mountain than dig a knife in their neck. Even after all this time, they forget they are immortal. A wave of their hands could send their foes to the final death, but no. My Guardian conserves their power, saving it only for when they finally run out of bullets. Many would say that on their own, my Guardian is a coward. It isn't true. My Guardian is  _ smart _ .

It is when they are in a fire team that things go wrong. They are courageous, and overestimate their power. My Guardian thinks they hit harder than anything they come across. It's true, more often than not. But not always.

My Guardian doesn't believe in a higher power, doesn't worship the Traveler like Zavala and Ikora do. But they believe in service. In sacrifice. They remember they are immortal, and they use it like a weapon. So my normally careful Guardian will play hero and draw fire. They will be a wall, a beacon of power, dying over and over again. They'll risk everything, even me, to make sure the others can finish what they started.

I'm not upset. Not really. Sometimes I think… it's a lot, living forever. Being remade again and again, always fighting for something. My Guardian doesn't sleep, afraid of what they'll see in their dreams. They don't remember their old lives, not really. They don't remember death. But they know they weren't fighting. They know they were at peace, that in their own way, they were whole. And sometimes… sometimes I miss being whole, too.

So we fight. On our own, instinct keeps them alive. The need to finish what we start. We can't just stand and do nothing. Death takes too long that way. But in a fire team… well. There are always things to look out for. And we will never deliberately miss a target. But somewhere out there is a bullet with our names on it.

For that day, we'll wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Ghost Stories of D2. And the fact that this is basically me.


End file.
